


The Sound of Romance

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Drunk Aziraphale (Good Omens), Drunk Crowley (Good Omens), F/M, Fire, Fluff, Gardener Aziraphale (Good Omens), Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Good Omens Big Bang, Kissing, Love Letters, Love Poems, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Nightmares, Omega Crowley (Good Omens), Scene: The Bookshop Fire (Good Omens), Smut, Song Lyrics, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Voyeurism, Walking, Walking at night, Wing Grooming, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22318798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: This is written for the Good Omens Big Bang, including everyone involved and their Tumblr links.All of the information relating to this can be found in the first chapter.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Harriet Dowling/Thaddeus J. Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth & Brother Francis (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 87
Collections: Good Omens Big Bang 2019





	1. Notes & Links

Hey Guys, before the fic begins, here are links to the artist (their art is on the next chapter), the beta and the story coach, as well as my own Tumblr. There's also the songs I reference, all songs that I like quite a lot. They don't have to be listened to while reading, but I highly recommend it. I own nothing of the songs, characters referenced or anything really, I just borrowed some stuff.

[Beta - seekwill](http://www.bestoftheweekwill.tumblr.com)   
  
[Story Coach -D20Owlbear](https://d20owlbear.tumblr.com/)   
  
[Artist - pangaeastarseed](https://www.tumblr.com/search/pangaeastarseed)

[Writer - brokencasbutt67](https://brokencasbutt67-writer.tumblr.com/)  
  
Songs:  
[Rule The World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iACXwsP56a0) \- Take That

[Y.M.C.A](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS9OO0S5w2k) \- Village People

[Somebody Loves Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45Dbflmmouc) \- Rick Astley

[No Matter What](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRh14w2qtcE) \- Papa Roach

[If You Only Knew](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xY0HCKOmrW0) \- Shinedown


	2. The Art (NSFW IMAGE)

The Art was created by pangaeastarseed


	3. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the work begins

Music - it’s an important part of people’s lives for different reasons. Some gain fame, fortune, and money from it, some use it to calm down after a stressful day. One would think that angels and demons have no use for music, to which they are mostly correct. Most angels and demons don’t, in fact, have any use for music, but as always, Aziraphale and Crowley are the anomalies. Music is incredibly important to both of them. Neither can state how important music is to them though, it’s ineffable. 


	4. Chapter 1

The music was loud, off-key and downright awful, piercing even. Crawly felt like her ears were bleeding. The wine was just as bad, tasting more like pig’s piss than any wine. But Mary and Joseph seem to be enjoying it, so much so that they haven’t gone to check on their _newborn_ son, Jesus, in several hours. Crawly knows they’ve left Aziraphale with him, but she still thinks that they’re inadequate parents, especially for the Lord’s son. She tried to make conversation with Mary and Joseph about Jesus, but the conversation was about as interesting as the pile of goat shit they called their home. It didn’t take long for her to leave the party, slipping away unnoticed in a swift movement of black fabric.

The hay crunches beneath her feet, the moon still hangs high in the sky. Crawly had come to the barn below to escape the party taking place in the inn above. She knows Aziraphale is nearby, she can feel the angel’s presence, like home. It comes with a sense of calm, a place where she can be herself and there will be no repercussions. _Home._

She has always been able to feel the angel’s presence since they first met on the wall some 4,000 years ago. After leaving the party so early, it was barely an hour before midnight, she decided to go and find that same angel. It isn’t hard. Going to the barn below, she’s surprised to find Aziraphale sitting on a bench, rocking the newborn baby in his arms.

That isn’t what takes Crawly by surprise. It’s the gentle, soothing tone of Aziraphale singing to the child. The angel’s voice is surprisingly calming, almost putting the demon herself to sleep.

“Angel,” Crawly murmurs, sitting beside Aziraphale on the bench. Aziraphale smiles to the demon, not saying anything. The baby in the angel’s arms is falling asleep. Crawly smiles gently and rests her head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. By the time Jesus has fallen asleep, Crawly can feel her eyes drifting closed. She rubs them while yawning, stretching her body to reawaken, while Aziraphale lays the sleeping baby’s body into the crib. Crawly’s head was resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder, her eyes drifting closed. The movement from the angel had jolted her awake.

“Aziraphale… what do you think God’s plan is?” Crawly asks, stretching her long legs out while she sits up.  
“I’m not sure, Crawly, it’s _ineffable,_ ” Aziraphale says softly, briefly flicking his eyes to the demon, before focusing on the way the hay covers their feet for a moment. If he looks at Crawly for too long, he gets that _weird_ sensation in his heart again. _His chest twists and tightens, his heart rate speeds up, it’s hard to describe. Whenever Aziraphale thinks of Crawly, he gets dopey, he thinks of a world where it’s only the two of them and they’re alone. A life and world that will never be._   
“I know _that_ , but why is she so dead set on killing people?” Crawly asks.   
“I’m afraid I do not know the answer to that” Aziraphale admits. A cry from the baby prompts the angel to lift the child into his arms.

Crawly watches as Aziraphale sings a gentle lullaby he’d heard only during his time as an angel, it was Latin, or maybe Enochian, he can’t tell the difference much anymore. Not that it matters, Jesus has fallen back to sleep in Aziraphale’s arms. Crawly smiles.

“You’re good with him, y’know” Crawly murmurs, sitting up and lighting the candle beside her as the sun fully sets for the night. She wants to tell the angel how adorable it is, how it endears her so much that she feels the love building rapidly in her chest. She doesn’t though, she swallows the comment down, looking to the angel. Aziraphale flushes a slight red colour and avoids the demon’s eyes as he lays the baby in the crib again.

“Why do you ask what God’s plan is?” Aziraphale asks, sitting back down. He looks over to Crawly again, the demon’s hand fiddling with the hem of her gown.

“I just do not understand Her uh…Her lust for death. Last month there was the flood, the disease, and _that damn cult. A_ few weeks ago she set down that plague, killing however many more, and now she has the plan for this little guy…well, I have a feeling it won’t end well,” Crawly sighs. _The thought lingers in her head, God’s lust for death. It feels as though the weight of the world is on her head and her shoulders, she feels as though she’s fighting against a predetermined story._ _  
_ “Crawly, dear, I only wish I could answer that question,” Aziraphale says softly. He too has the same fears as Crawly, but he is too scared to question Her ineffable work.

“I just wanna take him and run off, you know what I mean? She wouldn’t be able to find me, he wouldn’t have to die so soon,” Crawly admits. She looks over to the baby, snoozing peacefully. _If only he knew._ _  
_ “Crawly, She is omnipresent, omniscient and omnipotent. I can only imagine the damage she would do to you if she found you, which she inevitably would,” Aziraphale says softly, turning to face the demon. His eyes rake over the demon’s soft cheeks, the way her hair tumbles down, as though it was hiding perfection.

 _It is._ _  
_ _She’s a demon_ .   
_She’s perfect to me._ _  
_ _She’s a demon. Demons are forbidden, sinful, bad and so much more._

The war in Aziraphale’s head is similar to the supposed Holy War, _whenever that is supposed to happen_ , it fills him with dread, that everything will end horribly for everyone involved. He tries to avoid thinking about how he feels about the demon. The less he thinks about it, the safer she will be. He looks over to Crawly again, the feeling in his heart grows bigger, stronger. It doesn’t take a genius to realize what it is. It’s like a punch to the gut when he realizes that he’s in love with Crawly, the angel that didn’t fall but rather sauntered vaguely downwards.

It took Crawly much less time to realize she loved Aziraphale than what it took Aziraphale. She realized in the minutes after the revelation that the angel had rebelled against God’s wishes, by giving away the sword. She knew then that she was in love, and Crawly knew that God knew it too. It was obvious to her, and everyone else. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Aziraphale. The angel just emanates a purity that entices Crawly. She loves the angel, she can’t hide it. It shows in her actions, her words, and even her eyes. From this point forward, Crawly makes the promise to herself to never be without something to cover her eyes, ever again. Maybe it would be one of her next inventions, something to cover her eyes.

She eventually leaves the barn, walking away from the love of her eternal life. 

It isn’t the last time that they meet over the next few millennia, far from it. It’s the time that Crawly makes a promise to herself though, that she won’t let herself fall for anyone, especially not like she’s fallen for the angel. It is a forbidden love, and much like the apple in the garden, and one that will _never_ progress without unleashing literal Hell on Earth.


	5. Chapter 2

Crowley doesn’t mean to intrude like this. _He really doesn’t_ , not while their relationship is in the position it is. They’re not dating, but they’re more than friends. He knows that much, he just doesn't know more. Friends don’t _love_ each other like Crowley loves Aziraphale. He feels like he’s intruding on this moment now, though. Aziraphale has just gotten out of the shower, washing the soil and make-up from their _stupid_ disguises away. The angel looks exactly how Crowley has always known him to and loves him so. They are finished ‘working’ for the evening – Warlock has just gone to sleep. Crowley had walked into the cottage and immediately heard some singing coming from the angel’s bedroom

Aziraphale is sitting on the bed, a pristine white towel resting on his waist as he combs his hair back to the pristine curls that Crowley loves. He can’t quite make out what it is that the angel is singing, it sounds relatively new. _It probably is_. He watches as the angel reaches for some underwear, prompting Crowley to go sit down in the kitchen of the cottage on the Dowling Estate, choosing to polish the heels of his disguise instead of ogle the angel’s naked body.

When Aziraphale emerges from the bedroom, back in his usual outfit, he is pleasantly surprised to find Crowley seated on the sofa, staring at the wall while his thumb rubs over his jaw.

“Good day, Crowley. Is Warlock okay?” Aziraphale asks, sitting beside Crowley.

“He’s fine” Crowley grunts, while changing back to his usual attire with a thought.

“Would you like to take a walk later this evening? It’s going to be a fine night,” Aziraphale suggests, not missing the way Crowley stared at him, almost enamored.

“Sure, angel. I’d love to,” Crowley responds.

Night fell and the pair find themselves walking around the grounds in a comforting silence. Aziraphale is in the same clothes as always, while Crowley has changed back into his Nanny Ashtoreth disguise. 

Across the grounds, quite some distance away in the house, Harriet Dowling was settling down for the night with Thaddeus, the rarity of a night where he’s at home with her and Warlock.  
“Nanny and the Gardner seem to be rather fond of each other,” she states, looking out of the window. The pair are quite some distance away, but   
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Thaddeus asks while adjusting the pillows beneath his head.   
“This is the third time today I’ve seen them well, like that,” she says, gesturing to where Aziraphale had a hold of Crowley’s cold hand, swinging it between their bodies as they walked on the pristine path. That’s the one thing Aziraphale doesn’t like. Crowley is very reptile-like, _comes with being a snake_. He’s always cold, whenever they’re together, he can feel the cold emanating from the demon. 

As they walked, Aziraphale began to sing softly, almost silently. Crowley gawped over but thought better than to speak. He listened, content with the angel’s singing. His voice was pure, angelic, as it always has been.

“ _Yeah you and me we can ride on a star_  
 _If you stay with me girl, we can rule the world_  
 _Yeah you and me we can light up the sky”_ Aziraphale’s voice was soft as he sang to the empty night sky. **  
**_“If you stay by my side, we can rule the world_ ” Aziraphale sung softly, while looking up to the stars in the sky. Crowley looked over, he didn’t comment anything though. He felt his, well not _his_ , heart swell with love. He felt someone’s heart swell, it may have been his own. Crowley lied to Aziraphale, telling him that he couldn’t feel love. Truth is, all supernatural beings can sense love. Crowley lied because he _always_ feels the love from the angel, and he can’t decide whether it’s love for _him_ or just who Aziraphale is. Much to his dismay, Crowley suspects it may be the latter. 

Aziraphale resumes singing the song, while still not looking to Crowley. They find a bench along the dusty, gravel path. Behind them, the sound of the water fountain fills the night - time silence. Sitting down, Aziraphale continues to sing, blissfully unaware of Harriet Dowling watching them both intently.

“Do you think they’re dating?” Harriet asks, not looking at Thaddeus, who is becoming rather infuriated at the lack of sleep taking place.  
“Harriet, dear, I don’t care. Come to bed.” Thaddeus responds.

Crowley looks over to Aziraphale again. He cannot take his eyes off the angel. He’s not sure what it is, there’s just something so enrapturing about the angel to Crowley, something that makes him want to spend every waking minute with the angel. Before Aziraphale could speak, before he could ask _what’s going on_ , Crowley cups the angel’s cheek and kisses him gently. The angel is shocked, or that’s what Crowley hopes. Aziraphale is slow to react, but then he does and _oh, he’s kissing me back_ , thinks Crowley, pleased and delirious, he feels drunk from the angel’s kiss.

Eventually, Crowley is the one to separate the kiss. He wants to do more with the angel, _so much more._ But he doesn’t want to go too fast, and that’s why he stops. He strokes his thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek, and a small smile graces Crowley’s face.

“You…” He tries to form a sentence, there are so many words that are so heavy on his tongue, words that only the angel should ever hear in this special formation, but nothing comes of it. Aziraphale smiles softly.  
“Yes,” He responds, answering all of the questions in the demon’s head with one single word. The smile on Crowley’s face is bright, as bright as the vast number of stars and galaxies that fill the sky above them, most of which were created by this supposed evil demon.   
  
“Thaddeus! They just kissed!” Harriet exclaims.   
“Oh my god that’s adorable,” she squeals. 

Thaddeus sighs.  
“Will you come to bed now?” He asks. Harriet shakes her head, continuing to watch the pair.

Aziraphale smiles slightly, looking to Crowley.  
“Harriet Dowling is watching us,” Crowley states. He could feel her stare. Crowley has always been able to feel when someone is watching him. A part of him suspects that it is down to his distrust, his paranoia that there could be someone out to hurt him. Another part of him queries whether it is a supernatural ability, that Aziraphale would also have.   
“Let her,” Aziraphale murmurs.   
“I want to kiss my lover again,” he says, before cupping the back of Crowley’s head, kissing him gently. 

Crowley’s arms wind up wrapping around Aziraphale, holding the angel like a cherished piece of pottery. He wants to hold the angel, to show the angel the world and more, all in one moment. He can’t. Instead, he cradles the angel, and shifts closer as he kisses the angel, settling in at home.


	6. Chapter 3

The alcohol coursing through their veins isn’t the only reason that Aziraphale is so uninhibited in his actions tonight. Armageddon is less than a week away. He’s terrified and so is Crowley, but Crowley hides it much better. He’s keeping up the tough, confident facade, for Aziraphale more than for himself. If Crowley appeared to show weakness, to show fear at this current time, it would quite easily crush the angel’s confidence. Crowley has always been the pillar for Aziraphale to lean on, in any situation, and for that pillar to crumble would leave Aziraphale to fall behind it. 

The angel is stumbling around the bookshop. Crowley isn’t entirely sure what he’s searching for. He sees the little dance, well, wiggle, that the angel usually does in celebration, and then another bottle of whiskey is in his hand.

 _“It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A._  
 _It's fun to stay at the Y.C.M.A_.” Aziraphale sang, spinning around as he attempted to sing the song, completely unaware of himself messing up the lyrics. He doesn’t care though. 

Crowley watches as Aziraphale stumbles around for a few moments, the effects of the alcohol starting to show more. He stumbles over to the sofa, and falls into Crowley’s arms, almost immediately falling asleep. It’s such a rarity for Crowley to have the angel like this, no one is usually allowed to see the angel like this, never mind being so close to him. Crowley feels blessed, that special kind of blessing that won’t ever cause him to burn up, he feels blessed that the angel is comfortable enough with him to be like this, so intimate. Crowley smiled and gently kisses the top of Aziraphale’s head. He watches as the angel snuggles close to him, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist. 

Crowley smiles.  
“I love you,” he murmurs.   
“I’ve loved you for 6000 years and I still don’t have the balls to say it to you without having an aneurysm,” Crowley admits.   
“I will love you for 6000 years more…even after whatever happens,” he finishes with a sigh, a profound sadness somewhere deep inside of him. It creates an ache in his chest, deep and painful. He can’t place it though, he’s never been able to locate this stirring in his body from the angel’s presence. He strokes his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to the blonde locks. Crowley smiles when Aziraphale snuggles impossibly closer, harvesting the demon’s warmth.

With a slight demonic miracle, Crowley removes all of the alcohol from the angel, making it easier for when the angel wakes up, without the inevitable hangover. Reaching over, Crowley picks up a pen and notepad from the air. _If I can’t say it, I’ll write it._

Sure enough, when Aziraphale awakens the next…afternoon? He’s surprised at his lack of hangover, despite the numerous empty bottles surrounding him and the still - sleeping demon. He groans and sits up, immediately missing the demon’s warmth. Looking around, he miracles away the bottles, though a note on the table catches his attention.

He recognizes the scribbled writing. It’s Crowley’s, a font he’s long learned to read.

“Angel, I see how you care so fondly for books,” Aziraphale started, reading the paper aloud, making adjustments for the glaring spelling errors and drunken ramblings.  
“You treasure them like…I can’t describe it,” the note continues.   
“I wish I could show you that I…” Aziraphale reads, stopping abruptly when he realizes that the next words are crudely scribbled away. It wouldn’t be hard for him to erase the scrawls, to find what Crowley had written. But that would be too easy.

He looks over, finding the demon sitting up. The sunglasses are tossed aside as Crowley rubs a hand over his face, clearly not as drunk as Aziraphale had been, though still hungover. Aziraphale looks to the sheet of paper in his hand, and then to the demon.  
“Crowley…what is this?” Aziraphale asks.   
“That, angel, is a sheet of paper. It’s a magnificent invention by humans. It’s been around for years. The Egyptians called it _papyrus_ ,” Crowley responds. Aziraphale rolls his eyes.   
“I know _that_ , I’m not _that_ stupid. I mean, what is the writing on it? It’s your handwriting,” Aziraphale says, handing the paper to Crowley. The demon scrutinizes the paper for a few moments.   
“I uh… I...” Crowley stutters, suddenly appearing nervous. A casual demonic miracle has the paper burn up before Aziraphale can take it back.   
“Crowley, what are you hiding from me?” Aziraphale asks, forcing the demon to face him, his voice significantly more stern. Crowley sighs and the note reappears with a wave of his hand, giving it to Aziraphale before standing aside. Aziraphale begins reading the note again from where he had finished, realizing there was much more to it than he had anticipated.

“You came into my life like a star  
And filled my heart with joy   
You took my pain as if it was yours   
And gave me love that no one could.   
You gave me a shoulder to cry on   
You were my pillar when I was falling   
You were my strength when I felt low   
With your smile, you made my living on earth worthwhile.” 

By the time he’d read it, Crowley had gone. _Well, he hadn’t gone per se, only hidden from the angel._   
“Anthony J. Crowley, you had better get back here right now,” Aziraphale orders. He knows Crowley is still here, only he is invisible now. Crowley appears in view, though now as a snake. He slithers under the sofa, hiding like a spider.   
“Crowley, dear…” Aziraphale says, sitting on the floor.   
“This is the most…exquisite thing I have ever read,” he admits. Crowley’s head pokes out from beneath the sofa.   
“I cannot believe you wrote this about me,” Aziraphale continues.   
“Well, angel, you are perfect,” Crowley spoke, his tongue hissing out.   
“You may think that…These words shouldn’t describe me though,” Aziraphale murmurs. He looked down at Crowley.   
“I do wish you could talk to me as well, not as a snake,” Aziraphale admits.   
“I’d rather not kiss a snake,” he chuckles. Crowley slowly transforms back into his regular body. Still naked, he remained half hidden beneath the sofa.   
“Crowley, dear…” Aziraphale says softly. He strokes his fingers through Crowley’s hair while reading the note over and over. _He wants to frame it, to treasure it for the next 6000 years and more._

“Crowley, dear. I must ask,” Aziraphale spoke. They haven’t moved much in the past few hours, only small movements. Crowley had eventually slithered from beneath the sofa, snapping some clothes back onto his body.   
“What prompted you to write all of these wonderful words about me?” Aziraphale asks, looking to Crowley.   
“Last night,” he mumbles.   
“You were so drunk. I had too much to drink and I uh…” Crowley trails off, looking up to the ceiling, down to the floor, everywhere except the angel’s eyes.   
“I had more confidence then than I do now” Crowley admits. Aziraphale reaches down, cupping the demon’s cheek gently. Crowley melts into the touch, so touch starved in his life as a demon.   
“Crowley, my dear” Aziraphale murmurs. Reaching over, he presses his lips against the demon’s, his thumb stroking over the thin skin on Crowley’s cheek.   
“You should know, that, after everything we have been through, I am yours,” Aziraphale promises. Crowley nods, though he still refuses to make direct eye contact with the angel. Instead, he wraps the angel in his arms and hugs him tightly, like a Boa Constrictor holding its prey, though the end intention is slightly more different, Crowley would never hurt Aziraphale, never. It’s a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise that he will keep until his last breath. 


	7. Chapter 4

Crowley had asked Aziraphale to do this because the nature of their relationship made it perfect for them. It was odd for demons to ask other demons to do _this_ , Angels could ask other angels. Crowley had called Aziraphale, in a fit of panic. The angel hadn’t completely understood - he’s an alpha angel. He arrived at the demon’s flat, immediately overwhelmed by the scent of a demon’s heat. Sure enough, when he walked in, the scent was so much stronger. 

The demon was in the bath tub, in only underwear, jet black boxer shorts against pale skin. Tremors racked the demon’s body, as his eyes frantically flickered between the water and Aziraphale.

“Oh Crowley, dear” Aziraphale cooed. He wrapped his arms around Crowley and lifted him out of the tub.  
“I th-thought it was just the flu. I completely lost track of it” Crowley stuttered and stumbled over his words.   
“No need to worry dear, I will look after you” Aziraphale promised. Crowley was dazed, not fully aware of Aziraphale carrying him to the bed. 

The sheets were cooler than he remembers. The towel around his waist is rough against his overheated skin.  
“What do you need?” Aziraphale asked.   
“What do you think I need? I’m in heat, hasn’t happened in - ngk” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale blushed and nodded.   
“Other than _that_ , what can I do to help?” He asked.   
“I suppose you could groom my wingsss” Crowley spoke softly, the hiss of his true form beginning to show.   
“I can do that” Aziraphale promised. With an almost painful sounding crack, the two large wings filled the room. Aziraphale was taken aback at the sight. The black wings were filled with nebulae, spots of greens, purples, oranges, pinks, blues and so many other colors that a mere human could never even imagine.   
“Crowley” He breathed.   
“These are…these are magnificent” He breathed, almost awestruck at the sight.   
“Angel” Crowley whimpered. He shifted slightly, his discomfort evident. Aziraphale straddled Crowley’s thighs, not missing the demon’s intake of breath. Fingers began smoothing the soft feathers. A few dead feathers drifted to the floor, burning up immediately. Aziraphale was very much aware of Crowley’s hips writhing against the bed, it was making the sensation in Aziraphale’s pants stronger. Aziraphale tried to focus on grooming Crowley’s wings but he couldn’t help but notice when Crowley began grinding back against the bulge in Aziraphale’s tight trousers.

“Crowley” Aziraphale breathed, briefly stopping the motion of his hands.  
“Don’t stop, angel” Crowley spoke, voice breathy and rough. Aziraphale nodded, focusing on the task at hand, he hoped it would help him forget about the tightness in his pants.   
“Crowley, why are they in such…awful condition?” Aziraphale asked, smoothing feathers that were bent at odd angles.   
“Because demons don’t groom each other’s wings. I’ve not had mine done since the Old Kingdom and the Garden” Crowley admitted.   
“And when a demon goes into heat it progressively gets worse” Crowley continued, biting his lip to stifle a moan when he felt his hard cock move against the bed, even unintentionally.   
“How often do demon’s go into heat?” Aziraphale asked, clearly curious about the whole thing. Angels are alphas, but he’s not entirely sure what it means. Demons are mostly betas, though some are alphas. To be an omega is rare, and potentially dangerous. Aziraphale can’t bear to think about what demons would do to Crowley once they know he’s in heat. He’s so deep in thoughts that Aziraphale doesn’t hear Crowley talking to him.

“Sorry, my dear, what was that?” Aziraphale asked.  
“We go into heat like every 100 years maybe” Crowley admitted.   
“My last one was…I can’t remember my last one” Crowley continues.   
“What are you going to do?” Aziraphale asks.   
“The same thing that I do when I have a bit of free time. A good wank and a prayer” Crowley shrugs. He rolls his hips down against the mattress again. By this point, he’s blatantly getting himself to orgasm. Aziraphale doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s also doing the same against Crowley’s ass.   
“That won’t do, dear” Aziraphale spoke, wiping his hands against the towel.   
“It’ll have to. Can’t exactly explain to a human what going into heat means, can I?” Crowley stated.   
“I can help you” Aziraphale stated. Crowley groaned, head falling against the pillow.   
“I need you to sit up” Aziraphale stated. Crowley groaned and sighed.   
“I can’t” He whined.   
“You can” Aziraphale said softly, rubbing his hand down Crowley’s back.   
“Let me go get you another towel” Aziraphale said, before rushing out of the room. Crowley groaned and tried to sit up, though his discomfort only worsened. Aziraphale walked in, a towel in his hands. Leaning down, he kisses Crowley gently. Crowley moans into the kiss, knotting his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair as he deepens the kiss. He lays back on the bed, pulling Aziraphale over him.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale breathes, his hand stroking down the demon’s chest.  
“’m gonna produce slick soon…” Crowley admitted, mumbling almost.   
“What does that mean?” Aziraphale asked.   
“Demon’s will be swarming this building. They’ll sense an omega in heat, thousands of ‘em” Crowley admitted. Aziraphale let out a possessive snarl, probably unintentionally. He reached up and kissed Crowley again, reaching down to unbutton his own trousers.   
“I suppose we’ll have to show ‘em that you’re mine” Aziraphale growled. He nipped at the skin along Crowley’s neck, inhaling the musky scent of Crowley’s heat that was rapidly filling the room. Aziraphale reached down, finding Crowley’s thighs thick with the slick. He used it to ease his fingers into Crowley, who immediately opened up to his fingers.

“Ngk, Angel please” Crowley begged, his hips jerking up against Aziraphale’s stomach. With less than a thought, Aziraphale was naked, but neither is entirely certain who made it happen. Reaching down, Aziraphale uses some slick to prepare himself before he eases into Crowley.

The demon writhes on the bed, following the angel’s touch and movement. Aziraphale is kneeling above him, occasionally murmuring soft nothings to the demon. Crowley has never felt so loved - and yet, the lust is outweighing anything else. Crowley spreads his legs, and immediately, Aziraphale shifts down and takes Crowley’s hard length into his mouth. Crowley could’ve crumpled on the spot, he was barely able to keep himself still while Aziraphale was fucking him while defying all logic. Crowley knotted his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, tugging it slightly as the angel fucked into him and sucked him deep. 

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale noticed when the door burst open. They were too focused on each other. Demons filled the bedroom, all staring at the act taking place in front of them, an angel and a demon making it so much more interesting for the demons. Aziraphale leans down, nipping the skin on Crowley’s neck, leaving marks, all the while Crowley was writhing, his hips jerking to meet Aziraphale’s thrusts. A few demons drifted out of the room, not wanting to intrude, the majority remained watching. Aziraphale groaned, turning almost feral as the alpha in him made its appearance for the first time in the presence of the demon. He gripped Crowley’s hips, flipped the demon onto his hands and knees, slamming deep into him.

* * *

Crowley was deep in the orgasm - bliss subconscious. He was laid on the bed, the demons had all left long ago, with the threat of holy water from Aziraphale. He’d cleaned the mess that they’d made and he’s now looking to where Crowley is snoozing peacefully. His wings are resting off the edge of the bed, looking slightly more tidy than they had been this morning. Unable to resist the urge, Aziraphale goes to sit at the edge of the bed and begins to tidy up Crowley’s wings some more. 

Aziraphale loses himself in the task at hand, singing quietly to himself.   
  
“ _Sometimes we all need healing_  
 _Hold on to the feeling_  
 _That somebody loves me_  
 _Somebody loves me_  
 _I've got to hold on to the feeling_  
 _Sometimes we all hit the ceiling_  
 _Gotta hold on to the feeling_  
 _That somebody loves me_  
 _Somebody loves me_ ” 

After a while, Crowley wakes up from the post - orgasm sleep that had taken over him, Crowley only ever slept immediately after sex when he’s in heat - the rest of the time he’d make sure that the other person has at least left - though that hasn’t happened for a while. Most of the time, nowadays anyway, he spends his time with Aziraphale and so, doesn’t have the time for random hookups, not that he wants them anyway. It’s Aziraphale or nothing for him now, after everything they’ve been through _together_ . The light in the otherwise dark room is almost blinding at first. Once Crowley is able to open his eyes properly, he’s taken aback by Aziraphale’s beauty. The angel is focussed deeply on the task at hand - the grooming of his jet black wings. Crowley watches Aziraphale for a while, taking in the angel’s portrait. The love in Crowley’s chest is almost overwhelming. Eventually, he takes Aziraphale’s free hand and strokes his thumb over the angel’s cold skin. Aziraphale looks over and is met with love - filled golden eyes watching his every move.   
“Thank you” Crowley says, quietly. Aziraphale smiles, leaning over to kiss him gently. The kiss is soft and gentle, it shows the love they have for each other, and yet, for both, it feels like it’s not enough. It feels like there should be something more, their love for each other is immeasurable.


	8. Chapter 5

Crowley runs faster than the thought his legs could take him when he saw the smoke billowing out of the bookshop.  
“Do I look like I run a bookshop?” He hisses, and the firefighter looks slightly taken aback at the _anger_ radiating from Crowley. But it’s not anger. It’s fear. He can’t lose Aziraphale now, he _won’t._ Not after everything they’ve been through together. The door opens for him, it must sense Crowley’s anger. When he walks into the bookshop, he searches _everywhere_ for the angel.

“Somebody killed my best friend” He screams, collapsing to the floor.   
“Bastards. All of you” He screams again, body jolted back by a stream of water. Crowley doesn’t have the energy to move from where he lies on the floor of the bookshop. Believing that Aziraphale is dead only makes Crowley want to die, to lay here as his world burns around him, anything to feel close to Aziraphale one last time. He lays in the middle of the floor of the book shop, listening to the building crack and creak around him.

He eventually forces himself to get up. _Armageddon won’t stop itself. Crowley will stop it though, for Aziraphale._

Crowley makes his way back to his flat, wanting to get drunk and stop thinking for a while. In his flat, he slumps onto his chair, miracling a bottle of the strongest vodka into existence. He removes the cap, tossing it wherever. He doesn’t care anymore. _I’ve lost my best friend._

“Crowley…dear, is that you?” Crowley is taken aback when he hears Aziraphale’s voice. He looks around, removing his sunglasses to see better.  
“Fuck…’m goin’ insane already,” he slurs.   
“No, Crowley, it’s really me. I have a problem,” Aziraphale says while squinting slightly. It takes Crowley a few moments to realize that he’s not hallucinating, or going insane.   
“Angel…?” Crowley asks, attempting to sober himself more quickly than ever before, though he can’t hide the hurt that’s etched on his face. Nothing can hide Crowley’s hurt, and he’s not sure if he even wants to hide it anymore - he doesn’t want to hide _anything_ he feels for the angel anymore.   
“I’m going to have some difficulties in showing myself but I assure you that I am here,” Aziraphale says. Crowley nods.   
“What do you need, angel?” Crowley asks.

It was unsurprisingly difficult to get Aziraphale’s corporation back, but they did it with a few well - placed miracles and a few silent prayers to God from Crowley. 

The angel has barely fully appeared in front of Crowley before the demon is fisting a hand into the angel’s jacket, clutching the angel in his arms, as though Aziraphale will vanish. It doesn't matter where they are - in the middle of the busy London streets, Crowley falls into Aziraphale’s embrace.   
“Crowley, dear, is something wrong?” Aziraphale asks, gently stroking his fingers through Crowley’s hair.   
“I thought you were dead.” Crowley manages to form the sentence around sobs. Immediately, Aziraphale feels his heart sink.   
“Crowley, dear, I’m here. I’m safe,” he promises. He shifts to sit in front of Crowley on the road, though the surroundings quickly shift to the demon’s flat. Crowley still sobs, _hard._ His head rests on Aziraphale’s knees.

Aziraphale strokes his fingers through Crowley’s hair, soothing the demon. Crowley’s sobs die down slowly, the tears staining Aziraphale’s trousers.  
“Crowley, dear, please talk to me…” Aziraphale says softly. He strokes his fingers through Crowley’s hair, encouraging the demon to look up to him. The demon’s golden eyes are filled with a level of sorrow that Aziraphale hadn’t seen since…well, since Jesus’ death. Aziraphale cups Crowley’s cheek and kisses him gently. Crowley barely smiles into the kiss, the tears on his face not drying.   
“I will never leave you,” Aziraphale promises. Crowley nods, pulling Aziraphale close. Aziraphale gently lifts Crowley to standing.   
“Come along, my darling,” he says softly. They make their way to Crowley’s bedroom, Crowley’s hands shaking in Aziraphale’s warm hands.   
“I know that you’ve gone through a lot. I hear cuddling is one thing that helps in times like these,” Aziraphale says softly. He strips to his underwear, sliding beneath the silk duvet cover. Crowley nods and slowly undresses, his hands still shaking. The silk bedding is cold to his skin, but his angel keeps him warm.

Aziraphale wraps his hands around Crowley’s waist, holding him close. Crowley is beginning to calm down, settles close to Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale is Crowley’s security blanket. Crowley rests on Aziraphale’s chest, his head hiding in Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I was terrified,” Crowley mutters. It’d been a long few hours, Aziraphale thought Crowley had been asleep.  
“I thought Gabriel or some other feathered fuck had got you,” Crowley continues.   
“They would never hurt me,” Aziraphale promises. He strokes his thumb over Crowley’s chest.   
“The fire was so…” Crowley sighs. Nothing can describe the fear that was instilled in him by the fire. It never occurred to him just how easily the angel could be taken away from him.   
“I know, dear. I promise you, I’m safe, I’m here and I’m not leaving you,” Aziraphale promises. 

Crowley shifts until his chest is pressed against Aziraphale’s.  
“Are you tired, my dear?” Aziraphale asks. Crowley nods, not trusting his voice so much anymore.   
“Sleep, darling,” Aziraphale murmurs. _Crowley wants to fall asleep, so badly. But he’s terrified of what he’s going to see when he closes his eyes._ Sleep does eventually find Crowley. He doesn’t move from Aziraphale’s arms, holding him impossibly closer.

 _The burning book shop is all he can see. His feet hit the concrete as he runs into the shop._ _  
_ _“Aziraphale,” he shouts. He spins around on the spot, his eyes falling on the door in the corner. He runs through, the smoke getting thicker, darker._ _  
_ _“Aziraphale, you stupid angel. Where the hell are you?” He shouts. The bedroom door flies off of his hinges and Crowley sees Aziraphale’s lifeless body on the floor. Crowley drops to his knees beside the body. Tears stream down his cheeks. He looks down at the angel’s face. Even in death, the angel looks troubled._

 _“Aziraphale,” he cries._ _  
_ _“Crowley...” Crowley’s head flips up when he hears his name. He looks around._ _  
_ _“Crowley,” He takes a few moments to realize it’s Aziraphale calling his name._ _  
_ _“_ CROWLEY!” Aziraphale shouts. Crowley wakes with a jolt, darting forward. He narrowly avoids bumping heads with Aziraphale.

“Angel,” Crowley breathes, his hand reaching for Aziraphale’s touch in the darkness of the room.  
“I’m here, dear, I promise.” Aziraphale shifts, holding Crowley in his arms. Crowley crumbles in Aziraphale’s embrace, sobbing hard. Aziraphale lifts Crowley into his lap, gently rocking the sobbing demon. A pair of grey-white wings wrap around the demon in a different dimensional plane. Aziraphale presses a gentle kiss to the top of Crowley’s head, his hands stroking over the demon’s body.

Crowley sobs into Aziraphale’s shoulder, babbling out his fears of what had happened to Aziraphale, fears of what might happen and more general fears. Aziraphale doesn’t speak, he lets his demon get everything out of his system. Aziraphale began singing quietly, a song he can’t quite remember hearing. He knows the words off the top of his head, but he can’t name the artist or the name of the song.

“ _I swear to God that in the bitter end_  
 _We're gonna be the last ones standing_  
 _We'll never fall, we'll never fade_  
 _I'll promise you forever and my soul today_  
 _No matter what until the bitter end_  
 _We're gonna be the last ones standing_ ” Aziraphale sings almost silently. He brushes his fingers over Crowley’s shoulders, neck, hair and anywhere he could reach. The demon is somewhere between awake and asleep and Aziraphale doesn’t want to lose a moment of time like this. 

Crowley looks up to Aziraphale, his eyes resting on the angel who sings to him. Crowley isn’t sure where the angel learned the song, and he doesn’t care much. The lyrics are hitting deep in his chest, making the sadness leave his heart, filling it with love instead. Love that a demon should never feel, especially not from an angel such as Aziraphale.

Crowley settles close to Aziraphale, moving to lay back down. Aziraphale lies on his side, watching Crowley’s golden eyes drift closed again. Aziraphale smiles softly, stroking his hand over Crowley’s heart. He eventually curls close to the demon and lets himself fall asleep. Crowley doesn’t sleep well. He tosses and turns, and wakes up every hour after seeing the dead face of Aziraphale. Every time, Aziraphale is waiting for him. The angel strokes his hand over Crowley’s chest, or his thumb brushes the tears from Crowley’s cheek until eventually, the demon would fall back into the restless sleep that would plague many more of his nights to come.


	9. Chapter 6

It’s far too early on a Saturday morning. Crowley knows that much. He also knows it’s pouring down with rain. He’s cold, he’s alone and he wants Aziraphale. He wants the angel in his arms, now and forever. Climbing out of the bed, Crowley’s bare feet pad against the concrete floor of his apartment as he finds his clothes strewn around his apartment from the night before. He’s dressed quicker than ever before, the shakiness in his hand not having an impact. Sitting on his bed, Crowley inspects the ring in the moonlight: it’s still as perfect as the day he bought it. Slipping the box into his pocket, Crowley leaves his flat, choosing to walk to the bookshop instead of driving like usual.

Almost an hour has passed by the time he gets to the bookshop. He can see the light on inside, though Aziraphale wouldn’t be asleep anyway, the angel doesn’t sleep often. He just carries on as normal.   
“Angel” Crowley shouts. He knows Aziraphale will hear it. The angel hears  _ everything he says _ . He watches as the window opens, Aziraphale’s head popping out of it.

“Crowley” He breathes.

Taking a deep breath, Crowley drops to one knee, landing in a puddle. He doesn’t care though. He’ll let himself get hit by a car, so long as he can do  _ this _ .

“ _If you only knew_   
_How many times I counted all the words that went wrong_   
_If you only knew how I refuse to let you go,_   
_Even when you're gone_   
_I don't regret any days I_   
_Spent, nights we shared, or letters that I sent_ ” Crowley sings. He sees the angel’s hand covering his face, a sob can almost be heard. A few people are surrounding them, mostly curious as to the loud singing at such an early hour.

“Angel, will you marry me?” Crowley shouts up. The crowd that has amassed all gasps.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale gasps, making his way down to Crowley in the street in mere seconds. Aziraphale cups Crowley’s cheeks, kissing the demon gently. Crowley is soaked, Aziraphale’s Victorian nightwear is getting just as wet, the nightcap falling into a muddy puddle as the kiss deepens in the middle of the road, not that either being cares. Aziraphale grips Crowley’s hips and pulls him close. The demon makes the ring appear in his pocket as the kiss deepens, Crowley’s hands resting at the back of Aziraphale’s head.

It takes a few moments for them to separate. Neither being can keep the smile off of their face as they kiss again, and again, and again. It’s like a scene out of a movie, as rain pours around them. It’s 5 am when they finally move inside, soaked to the core and shaking with the cold.   
“Crowley… please tell me you know what my answer is,” Aziraphale says, turning the heating up high in the bookshop while making two towels appear in his hands for himself and one for Crowley.   
“I assumed yes…” Crowley admits, looking sheepish as he fiddles with the ring between his fingers.   
“You assumed correctly,” Aziraphale smiles, moving to stand in front of Crowley. He leans up and kisses Crowley again, while the demon slides the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger. The kiss quickly becomes heated, Aziraphale pushing Crowley against the wall. The demon groans, his head hitting the wall with a thud as Aziraphale mouths over his neck, nipping almost invisible bruises.

“Bedroom,” Crowley breathes, his hips jerking against the uncomfortable, soaked denim of his jeans. Aziraphale nods and moves over to lock the door to the bookshop before following Crowley up the stairs. Crowley makes his clothes appear hung up in the bathroom, drying off.   
“Ah, that’s better,” he sighs, sitting on the bed in only his silk boxer shorts. Crowley looks over to Aziraphale, almost immediately groaning. The angel is naked.  _ Naked _ . His pajamas are drying, somewhere.   
“Angel,” Crowley breathes.   
“Yes, dear?” Aziraphale asks. He looks over, sends a small smile to Crowley.   
“I love you,” Crowley promises while standing up. He walks over to Aziraphale and kisses him gently, a love filled kiss. Aziraphale smiles softly, cupping Crowley’s cheek.

“I know you do, dear. You have reminded me every day that we have known each other.” Aziraphale smiles. Crowley flushes and smiles.   
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he admits. Aziraphale smiles.   
“You don’t need to apologize, dear, I am equally at fault for not telling you how  _ I  _ feel,” Aziraphale responds. Crowley shakes his head.

“We’re not having this discussion,” Crowley responds, tugging the angel close by his hips and kissing him deeply. Aziraphale moans, resting his hand above Crowley’s shoulder as he pushes Crowley against the nearest wall. Crowley moans, his knees weakening and legs parting as the angel  _ dominates _ him. Crowley keens and grips Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, leaving red marks.   
“Bed,” he pants when Aziraphale’s head moves to his neck. Aziraphale grips Crowley’s thighs, the demon hopping up to wrap them around Aziraphale’s hips. The kiss deepens again, Crowley’s back hits the soft bed a few moments later. He looks up as Aziraphale clambers onto his lap. Immediately, Crowley’s hands fall to Aziraphale’s waist, holding the angel in place.    
“I love you,” Aziraphale murmurs. Leaning down, he kisses Crowley. Crowley groans, one of his hands reaching back to grip Aziraphale’s ass. Aziraphale moans, rolling his hips against Crowley’s stomach.    
“I want you to love me, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmurs.    
“I do love you, angel, no matter what happens, I will forever love you,” Crowley promises, while interlinking his fingers with Aziraphale’s. An almost silent snap could be heard, and then, Aziraphale’s body is transforming into a female one.    
“Angel, you’re beautiful,” Crowley murmurs. Aziraphale flushes red, gripping Crowley’s hand slightly. The demon reaches up and strokes his hand over Aziraphale’s chest, a gasp filling the room. Crowley smirks and reaches up to kiss Aziraphale gently. He flips them over, leaving Aziraphale on the bed. The angel gasps, legs parting slightly.    
“Crowley, please” Aziraphale begs.    
“I got you, angel, I got you,” Crowley promises, stroking his fingers over Aziraphale’s folds.    
“Fuck,” the angel curses. Crowley smirks and nips and sucks at the skin on Aziraphale’s neck for a moment, the angel’s moans getting louder.    
“Crowley please,” Aziraphale begs, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was that he was begging for.  _ Anything.  _

Crowley reaches down.    
“Are you sure?” he asks, his yellow eyes meeting Aziraphale’s. The angel nods.   
“There is no one else I would rather take this step with,” Aziraphale promises. Crowley smiles softly, though he has to rapidly blink away the tears that are forming in his eyes. Neither is entirely sure whether the question was about the  _ huge  _ commitment they just made or the situation they’re in, but the answer is the same regardless. Aziraphale smiles softly, reaching up to cup Crowley’s cheek.    
“Come, now dear, show me,” he murmurs. Crowley nods, reaching down to line himself up again.    
“I am ready for you, my dear. Forever and eternity,” Aziraphale promises. Crowley smiles slightly, easing in.

When all was said and done, and Crowley was spilling into the angel, the love in the room was insuppressible.    
“I am never going to leave your side, my dear,” Crowley promises. Aziraphale moans softly, still sensitive from his orgasm. Crowley shifts to lay on the bed, watching as Aziraphale wraps himself around the demon’s thin body.    
“I love you,” Aziraphale promises. He presses his lips against Crowley’s cheek. Crowley smiles, stroking his fingers up Aziraphale’s spine. 

They share soft kisses as the sun rises over London’s busy streets. Eventually, they fell asleep together, holding each other impossibly close. 


	10. Epilogue

Music. It’s a big part of people’s lives, and for a certain angel and demon, it’s incredibly huge. 

Without music, Crowley is certain that he and Aziraphale wouldn’t be where they are today. 

Turning over in bed, Aziraphale watches as the demon sleeps while turning some music to a low volume, just high enough that he can hear it without waking the sleeping man beside him. 


End file.
